


In the mind of a mad man

by Chalichi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalichi/pseuds/Chalichi
Summary: He keeps watching her. Waiting.





	In the mind of a mad man

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work I wrote for a school project. And since I already had finished it, I thought I would share it with the internet. 
> 
> I haven't gone through it and corrected it yet. Will do that later this week. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

I don’t know when it happened, the staring. It was like I was moving from being fine one day to being borderline obsessed. I couldn’t stop. Can’t stop. Won’t stop. I need her. And in my mind, she needs me to. 

*

I walk in front of my window and peek out, trying to hide behind my curtains. I have all the lights in the room dimmed. It is fairly dark outside already, the last rays of daylight bleeding out into a dark blue sky. I see her, I always do. I always know what she does. I know her habits by now, from watching her. I touch her in my mind. I feel her soft smooth skin against my palm, feel her breath against my neck as I touch her. I get lost in my thoughts sometimes as I watch her undress, just like she does every day. Of course, she doesn’t know that I watch her, and she never will. 

*

I almost got caught today. I was following her to her job, like I always does, in my mind we are holding hands, talking just like a normal couple. Her soft laugh rings in my ears as I tell her a joke. She smiles at me, the morning sun catches her eyes, making them sparkle. As I was dreaming I didn’t notice that she had stopped. She was looking in her purse for something and I almost walked into her! I froze! I couldn’t run away, no, that would draw too much attention to me. So I kept on standing behind her in silence. I didn’t dare to breathe, afraid that the noice of my breath would make her notice me and turn around. As I stood there the wind suddenly turned, and a light breeze carrying her perfume drifted my way, just as I drew in a breath of much needed air. I inhaled slowly much to my burning lungs protest. I almost lost my mind right there and then as the sent of vanilla rolled into my airways. I wanted more-needed more! I needed her! My body was burning, craving for her touch. Watching her wasn’t enough.

*

Sleep. That wasn’t something my mind would let me do. That was a luxurious thing, not meant for me. My mind was spinning wildly. Whispering to me. Promises of love. Promises of happiness and rest. Telling me stories of a happy ending for me. For us. All I had to do was listen. And I did. There wasn’t much I could do as a watched, yearned, craved for her. I wanted to touch her so badly it hurted. I wanted to caress her soft skin as I breathed in the sent of vanilla in her hair. But I had to wait. Patience. That was what he told me, the whispering voice. He knew best. Bad things would come if I rushed. And we didn’t want that. No. It had to be perfect. For us. So I waited, watched, listened at his soft spoken voice. At the stories that would soon become truth. I knew, because he said so. 

*

Days passed so quickly. My patience was steady vaining as I watched her. The soft spoken words in my mind had been getting louder as the time passed. It had changed from a different whisper to a raw shouting. Wanting me to listen, staying alert. Sometimes there were more voices, yelling at the same time. It was like being in the middle of a crowded marketplace, trying to listen to everyone all at once. I wasn’t scared, only inpatient. Tired of waiting. I needed her. She needed me. I could feel it. And sometimes I could see it, by the way she undressed by her window. Doing it just for me, slowly. Letting me see every part of her. Getting excited by my gaze. I knew she was. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her. I couldn’t wait anymore. She couldn’t wait anymore. She was calling for me. Her body. Her eyes. I was ready. 

*

Screams loud and chilling was filling the air like small knifes made of ice. Piercing the otherwise calm night. Why would she scream? Why would she be afraid? Confusion clouded my mind like a thick fog. She wanted me, I know she did. He told me she did. He wouldn’t lie, no, not to me!  
Trashing. Biting. Scratching. Nails leaving red wellts on my pale skin, trickles of blood welling up in the raw cut. It stung. The scream, it had to stop. He told me that.  
Shut her up! Shut her up! SHUT HER UP!! Ge screamed at me! My head hurted, splitting open in two. The sound, the piercing sound. I had to make it stop. How do i stop it? 

*

Silence at last. Her resting face, her pale cold skin and blue lips. So beautiful, and so wrong. Her eyes, once filled with life, now staring empty at the dark ceiling. I kiss her cold lips once, twice. Nothing. She had left me. She was gone.  
It was for the best He said. Too much noice. Had to shut her up. My eyes well up, and my throat closes. What have I done? What do I do now?  
Nothing He said. Hide. Wait it out. No one will know.  
I sit with her. Watching her cold body, holding her hand. I can’t leave her. She needs me. And I need her.  
Stay. I must stay. 

*  
Epiloge

”The man sat with her you say?” The officer looks at his collegue, face Stern and cold. 

”He was.” she said, her gaze dropped from her collegues cold blue eyes to the window where The Man was seated in the interrogation room.  
”He is ill. Very much so.”

”What makes you say that?” the officer asked, standing up next to her. 

”He talks to himself. Asks questions and answers them afterwards.” she said, eyes never leaving The Man.  
”He said that He made him do it. Shut her up.” 

”How did Lucy die?” the officer asked her. 

She could feel the officers eyes on her. She raised her gaze to him before answering.  
”Strangulation.”she said. ”With his own hands.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no psychiatrist by any means, and with that said I'm no expert in schizophrenia or any related condition.  
> This is purely fiction and should be read as such.


End file.
